


Becoming Mainstream

by madamedicelia



Series: Hetalia Headcanons That Don't Really Make Sense But Everyone Agrees On [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, Just bros being bros, Whale Brothers, based on a head canon i saw, nerds, stop me, what even is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 06:52:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4469477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madamedicelia/pseuds/madamedicelia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Norway has a special gift to attempt to get Iceland to join popular culture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Becoming Mainstream

**Author's Note:**

> i said i'd never write another fanfic for the hetalia fandom again yet here i am i cannot exit this hell da m m it

A knock on the door interrupted the battle. Iceland sighed and tried to refocus on the words in front of him. He was reading a novel and the climax was unfolding. He wasn’t sure if all the main characters would survive and he _needed_ to find out. He’d been following his book series for about seven years now and was emotionally connected to the names and words on the pages.

Another insistent knock further derailed Iceland’s concentration. He dropped the book on his face and considered screaming into it. Instead, he inhaled deeply, enjoying the smell of ink and fresh paper. The knocking turned into banging and Iceland knew he would not be able to ignore his visitor any longer. He groaned and got up from his confortable position on his couch and trudged to the door.

“Hej.” Norway stood on his stoop, looking bored and curious.

Iceland sighed and held the door open, used to this routine. Norway would swing by and pester him for a bit, occasionally drop some news or gossip. He’d eat all his licorice, and then leave. It was less time-consuming and bothersome to just go with it.

Norway sat on Iceland’s favorite armchair, hanging one leg off the armrest. He pilfered from the bowl next to him and popped it in his mouth. He sucked on it contemplatively, silent as Iceland crawled back into his nest of blankets where he was reading. They sat in a comfortable silence. Norway quickly depleted the bowl of candy while Iceland was quickly absorbed into his novel.

“Don’t you ever get bored of the quiet?” Norway asked. 

It took Iceland a few seconds to process the inquiry, as his favorite character seemed to have just sacrificed his life for his friends. _Oh my god, the prophecy was about him, not the others,_ Iceland screamed internally before the question sunk in.

“No,” Iceland replied, eyebrows furrowing. “I’m used to it.”

“Not even a bit of music? You wouldn’t be so behind everyone if you got out more or even just listened to popular music,” Norway commented. He swung his leg casually though he kept his gaze on his brother.

Iceland held in a sigh. This was a common argument. Iceland always felt he was behind in trends and popular culture in the world but also made little effort to assimilate. Norway tried to get him to try new things or join the mainstream, either out of pity and love for his brother or to annoy the heck out of him. It was hard to tell. 

“I listen to music sometimes,” Iceland countered. “And I’m not that behind; this book only came out four months ago. See? Modern.”

Norway snorted softly. He reached for another licorice but was surprised to find his hand on hit empty air and his nails clinked against the glass bowl.

“Well, I’ve got something to help you anyways,” he said, mouth twitching as he reined in a smirk. “Because one children’s series and Bjorn do not count as modern culture.”

Iceland scoffed, affronted at his brother’s insinuation. Despite his offended expression, he was worried. Last time Norway had brought him something, it was a shirt that read, “I have the world’s best brother.” Iceland frozen in fear as Norway reached into his satchel. 

Norway made a scene out of searching through his bag, pulling out random objects like a stick of butter (wouldn’t that melt?) and a mug that Iceland couldn’t read but was 99% sure it had his name on it. At last, Norway sat back holding a small square. A CD. 

“I think you’d like this,” he said, walking over to his brother. He kept his face emotionless but his purple eyes sparkled with amusement and crinkled in the corners. Iceland cautiously took the gift.

It was a Kidz Bop CD.

“Oh my fu-” Iceland started. Norway clicked his tongue in disapproval and Iceland chose a different word. “Fudge.”

“It has all the popular songs they play on the radio,” Norway explained, words rising in pitch as he tried to keep from laughing. “And it’s all censored and clean for your child ears.”

Iceland felt the blood rush to his cheeks and ears. He was equal parts embarrassed and angry.

“I am not a child, brother!” he exclaimed, dragging his hands down his face.

Norway patted his shoulder understandingly. “It’s okay, little brother; one day you’ll be old enough to listen to the real songs and watch PG-13 movies.” His voice cracked at the end and his facade crumbled away. He was laughing, hand over his mouth to hide his giggles.

Iceland squawked. “I can handle swears and I watch adult movies, too.” His face still felt hot as he argued. 

Norway sobered up and looked him straight in the eye. Iceland felt uneasy under the scrutiny and wondered what he said wrong. 

“ _Adult_ movies, huh?” Norway seemed amused. It took a second before the phrasing registered in Iceland’s brain.

“Oh skít, wait, not those kinds of movies, I swear!” Iceland frantically tried to recover himself.

Norway looked at him sideways and snorted. “Are you sure about that? After all, you are a teenager despite all your years.”

“What, I- uh I’m not- I don’t” Iceland spluttered, trying to explain himself. Saying he didn’t watch “adult” movies meant that Norway would take advantage and reaffirm that he only watched children’s movies. On the other hand… Admitting the opposite would be even more awkward. 

Iceland gaped at his brother realizing that any words he could say would only dig his grave deeper. He groaned and hid his face in his face. Norway laughed but patted him on the shoulder. 

From that day forward, Norway’s snorting laughter rung in Iceland’s head every time the Nordics suggested a movie. Iceland resolved to never open his mouth or let Norway into his house again.

**Author's Note:**

> this is why no one respects me in this fandom lol
> 
> [ my tumblr](http://hipster-yams.tumblr.com)


End file.
